


the process of falling in love

by starlightmesss



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Scene: Soho 1967 (Good Omens), just them falling in love, that's literally it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26836099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightmesss/pseuds/starlightmesss
Summary: How Aziraphale and Crowley fell in love through the years
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	the process of falling in love

Aziraphale and Crowley fell in love slowly, starting at the very beginning, on the wall surrounding the Garden of Eden, as the angel shielded the demon from the very first rain with his wing. 

With time, their feelings developed and they found themselves thinking about the other more and more often and being particularly happy when meeting again after some time had passed. 

After some thousands of years, they had both definitely come to the realization that there was something there. 

Aziraphale started noticing how wide he smiled every time Crowley was around (and proceeded to try hiding it as quickly as possible) and Crowley realized he was more than happy doing what he could to make Aziraphale happy (more than he liked to admit). The angel, specifically, also began worrying about whatever could have happened to the other if Hell would have found out the demon was spending so much time around him and being nice to him (not that Crowley would ever have admitted it).

As the years went by, they also started noticing the other’s behaviour as well. A hint of it, at least. They weren’t even completely aware of their own feelings yet, after all. 

Aziraphale realized Crowley did what he asked when he could (and, he had to admit, he also took  _ a little bit _ of advantage from it, smiling sweetly at the demon and hoping he’d agree to it. He usually did). Crowley, on the other hand, started noticing the smiles the angel reserved for him and definitely couldn’t deny the feeling they caused in his stomach every single time.

It was after the Blitz in London when Aziraphale, standing between the remains of a church and holding a bag of his books in his hand, fully realized the depth of Crowley’s and his own feelings. 

The demon hadn’t done much out of the ordinary, really. He had come to rescue him, and avoided getting him discorporated. Again. He had done something nice for him, saving his books from the explosion. Again, but this time, Aziraphale hadn't asked. He was too caught up in trying to save the both of them from the bomb that he hadn’t even thought about his beloved books. But Crowley had. Crowley knew how much they meant to him and had saved them.  _ Little demonic miracle of my own. _ They hadn’t seen each other in a century and they had even had an argument that last time. But Crowley came and saved him and something he cared about. 

Memories came rushing through his head as he looked at him walking away after offering him a lift (he complimented his new car of which the demon looked particularly proud of) and then on their way to the bookshop. The Globe Theatre. The Bastille.

He had to force himself to stop staring at the demon as two very simple thoughts, but at the same time not at all, ran through his mind.  _ I’m in love with him. And he’s in love with me.  _

A couple of decades later, it was Crowley’s turn, though it took him a little longer. He was sitting in his car, Aziraphale had just given him a thermos full of Holy Water and had left, after telling him he went too fast for him. He was looking at the object in his hands, frowning, trying to make sense of the angel’s words.  _ You go too fast for me, Crowley _ . That’s what he had said. He placed the tartan patterned thermos ( _ unbelievable, does he own anything that isn’t tartan? _ , he shook his head fondly) on the passenger seat and drove home, still dwelling on it. 

He walked into his apartment, sat on his chair (maybe throne was a more accurate word to describe it), placed the thing on the table in front of him and looked at it.

Too fast for him. 

Crowley was well aware he had feelings for Aziraphale. And he was also well aware (or at least he hoped he wasn’t wrong. He’d been overthinking it for centuries, to be fair) that Aziraphale had some kind of feelings for him too. But he couldn’t, for the life of him, understand why it was suddenly  _ too fast _ .

Then the realization hit.  _ Holy Water _ . He had given him Holy Water, after years and years of telling him he didn’t like the idea, that he was completely opposed to it, actually, he had given him that thermos because  _ “I can’t have you risking your life” _ . He wanted him to be safe, even if it meant doing something that worried him so much. He thought about his own behaviour in the last years and finally realized something Aziraphale already had. The books after the Blitz two decades before.  _ Aziraphale loves me. And I love him _ .

A few more decades later, as he’s running into Aziraphale’s bookshop surrounded by flames, Crowley truly and fully realizes how much he cares about the angel. The same thing happens to Aziraphale after Armageddon almost happens and Satan almost destroys them. 

On the bus going back home that evening, they sit quietly, letting everything sink in and holding each other’s hands. 


End file.
